


Not Another Song About Love

by retiredgremlin



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, barista zuko, soft sokka, sokka is a himbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:48:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25739065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retiredgremlin/pseuds/retiredgremlin
Summary: sokka is a coffee-loving classics studentZuko is the barista at his favourite cafeiroh is a wise menace to both of them
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), zukka
Comments: 32
Kudos: 373





	1. Chapter 1

Sokka twirled a pen between his deft fingers and glanced between his heavily annotated book and the counter of the Jasmine Dragon for what must have been the hundredth time in five minutes. What possible hold could a counter have on the young man? Not what, but whom.

Behind the counter stood the charcoal black mop of hair, currently piled on top of his head and secured with an elastic, that belonged to simply the most beautiful man Sokka had ever seen. The slate name tag pinned to the boy's khaki green apron read “Hello, Zuko here” framed by tiny chalk drawings of teacups and flames. His eyes contained a sharp focus on the cup in front of him as he attempted to form a cat from the foam of the hot drink encased inside the ceramic. The loose tendrils about his temples fell just short of his eye line but provided Sokka with fantasies of what it might be like to adjust the loose strands for him.

Sokka's fantasies were cut abruptly short as Zuko suddenly lifted his head to admire his work; not without catching the eye of his admirer from afar. Sokka’s eyes grew alarmingly wide as he let out a soft yelp and dropped his gaze, but not before he could have sworn he saw the faint beginnings of a blush dancing across Zuko’s cheeks accompanied by the slightest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Oh god, his lips. Sokka could daydream forever about just his lips.

“Sokka...earth to Sokka!” Sokka was brought out of his trance by the thumping of his sister’s bag on the floor beside them accompanied by her demanding tone pulling his attention from Zuko.

“so, who's the guy?” Katara quizzed her brother, ignoring Sokka’s unspoken desire to remain undiscovered,

“Guy? What guy? there is no guy, Katara.” Katara met Sokka’s gaze with a look that screamed “don’t bullshit me”. She looked behind her, turning to get a good view of the seemingly oblivious Zuko,

“he’s cute, if you like that whole ‘hasn’t slept in a week and is surviving off of sheer willpower and caffeine’ look.”

Sokka followed her gaze and in a dreamlike state, murmured, “yeah, he is.”

“AHA! Sokka's got a crush!” Katara teased her brother in a sing-song as he blushed before aggressively swallowing his growing butterflies. “so, you gonna get his number?”

“hey, remember what you were like with Aang? You have no ground, missy!” he chuckled before sighing, mostly to himself, “I don’t know, maybe? I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“do you ever?”

“HEY! Unnecessary!” The pair dissolved into laughter before Katara glanced at her phone, “hey c’mon, we gotta go. We can’t be late to Professor Bumi’s class again.”

“Do we have to?”

“If you wanna graduate then yeah. You can come back to stare at pretty boy tomorrow.”

“Fine.” Sokka began to pack away the book he’d been reading before Katara arrived. Katara left ahead of him, leaving Sokka alone with a pen, a book and a bundle of napkins. While her back was to him, Sokka took the pen and quickly scribbled a small, hopefully legible, note to accompany his phone number onto the white, course napkin and prepared to smoothly slide it over the counter to his new favorite barista.

He launched his bag strap onto his shoulders and sauntered, in a way that he hoped read “confident”, through the tables, to the counter where he caught Zuko’s eye, lifted the stainless steel napkin box underneath a hanging “pick up” sign and placed the note underneath the cool metal.

Sokka then made his way to the door on the other side of the café but before he could exit, he heard the gruff but jovial voice of someone that was definitely not Zuko;

“Excuse me sir, is your name Earl gray? Because you look like a Hot-Tea! Zuko, I think you’ve got an admirer!” Sokka’a face flushed red with embarrassment as he made his final push out the door. What Sokka missed however, was Zuko’s own blush at the punny pick up as he took the napkin from the other man.

“Not cool, uncle. Now he probably won’t ever come back!”

“Ah, Zuko; the red string of fate follows many loops but always has a way to find each end. He’ll be back.”

“I hope you’re right, uncle.” Zuko glanced at the clock just beside the door,

“Oh crap, I’m gonna be late!” he tugged off his apron and ran off the gather his stuff from the back room before running out the door, accompanied by the echo of his shouts to close up after class to his uncle Iroh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everybody! thank you so much for all the love on this little fic! i wasn't really sure on how to continue but i hope this is good enough! sorry the update took a while, hopefully future updates will be a bit more frequent.

Amazingly, Zuko managed to make it to his classes at the University of Ba Sing Se. He was studying Politics with a minor in Social Policy so his schedule was pretty packed. Exhausted, he dumped his stuff at his feet as he plopped down on the soft sofa, ran a hand through his fringe to push it back and let his mind drift to the note he had snatched from his uncle’s hand in his haste to leave the small café. He reached into the pocket he had stuffed it into and unfurled the crumpled napkin. He could tell the writer had tried his best to keep his writing legible despite the uncomfortable writing surface. His eyes scanned the note and chuckled again at the cheesy pick up line So, he thinks Zuko is a hot-tea…interesting. He signed the note with his name and phone number.

Zuko pulled out his own phone, navigated his way through his cracked screen to find his contacts and punched in the digits written down before naming the contact ‘Sokka’ accompanied with a heart emoji. He spent a few minutes, mulling over his opening line and eventually, he sent a quick text to the other boy.

“hello, Zuko here. From the jasmine dragon?” He cringed at the greeting, but it was the best he could come up with.

The reply was instantaneous from Sokka.

“well hello there, hot-man. Nice to see I didn’t scare you off.” Zuko grinned to himself before typing back;

“sorry if my uncle embarrassed you earlier,” he inhaled a deep breath of air, suddenly emboldened, “how about dinner and a movie to make up for it?”

As he hit send, he felt the sofa he was sitting on dip from the other side, thinking nothing of it and without looking up, he shifted himself further into his corner and crossed his legs; only vaguely aware of the presence beside him.

“oh my GOD, Katara! He asked me out! What do I say! Oh fuck, I didn’t think it’d go this far so quick!” Sokka spiralled beside the now alert Zuko, completely oblivious to the cause of his outburst only mere centimetres away. Zuko glanced at him from the corner of his eye, suddenly grateful for his in-observance as it gave him the perfect opportunity to just look at Sokka as the latter had done earlier that morning in the Jasmine Dragon. He admired the wolf tail his brown hair was scraped into, the creaseless and clear dark skin that covered his body, his delicate eyelashes, angled nose and lips that were being bitten to death by Sokka’s anxiety. Zuko felt a swell of pride in his chest that he was the reason behind Sokka’s flustered expression and rapid typing of quickly deleted responses. Zuko noted the scent of his aftershave and inhaled slightly too deep, letting the aroma cloud his senses for a brief moment. He then noticed the blue hoodie he wore and how much it complimented him. He stored both facets of information away in his head and started to listen intently to the conversation the siblings were having.

“he’s gonna think I’m so stupid, Katara!” katara was trying to get the boy to stop talking long enough to get a word in.

“so- s- SOKKA shut up!” that did it. Sokka blanched and looked at his little sister, “what?”

“he won’t think you’re stupid, doofus. Just talk to him like he’s an old friend.”

“but how, Katara? He’s just so drop-dead gorgeous, I lose all thought processes. Sometimes I feel like I’m destined to be Orpheus and he my Eurydice.” Katara looked at him, understanding the myth he referenced but not quite grasping what he meant, “if I look too much at him, I might lose him. Wouldn’t be the first time it happened, either” there was a hint of sadness in his elaboration and katara looked on with understanding.

Zuko glanced at the time display on his phone and cringed internally. He would have to leave now to make it in time for his next class. As much as he liked professor Haru (more like liked to ogle), he did not make social policy 101 the most entertaining class on Zuko’s roster.

As he collected his things, he debated leaning over to Sokka and alerting him of his presence; he nearly did but decided to spare him the double whammy of embarrassment for the day. As he rose and swung his bag back over his shoulder, he caught katara’s eye. He gave her a small smile and raised his finger to his lips in a shush motion. Katara nodded slightly in understanding. With that, he sauntered off in the direction of his next class, his mind full of the image of one particular brunet and nose swimming with the residual scent of his aftershave. Of one thing Zuko was certain; he was in for a rollercoaster ride of emotion. He couldn’t wait.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two updates in one day? Yes.  
> content warning: mentions of abuse/sexual assault please do not read if these issues significantly impact your mental health and remember you are loved <3

Zuko was eager to get started in his class. Today was an open debate on their current topic; women’s reproductive legislation. He had researched the issue on his breaks from work and in his free time just to make sure he was up to date on statistics and country laws. It was an area he was passionate about already and held his opinions firmly.

He emptied his bag of everything he needed for the class and, when he’d finished, took out his phone and glanced at the few messages shared between Sokka and he. He smiled softly as he gazed almost lovingly at the text displayed on his phone. He had been harboring a crush on Sokka for nearly a year now, when Sokka first started coming to the Jasmine Dragon. Shortly after that, he had found out they attended the same university on a fateful day after filing out of an exam hall only to walk right into the tall brunet’s back. Zuko had a clumsy tendency. He mentally chided himself at the memory for not looking where he was going but eased off the re-emerging embarrassment as he thought of the apologetic expression that marred Sokka’s face in the memory. Zuko often wondered why Sokka had looked at him like that when their collision was Zuko’s fault; it irked him.

He was brought out of his daze by his professor waltzing through the door to the small lecture hall. It wasn’t a very big room, big enough for a few rows of desks in the front and a few grouped tables off the side, but no tiered seating as expected of a lecture hall. Zuko preferred it this way, he felt equal like this. Haru started up the computer at his desk and turned on the projector to reveal a WARNING slide. He turned to the accumulated students before him and began his class.

“The topics we are going to cover in this hour are going to potentially make some of you uncomfortable or put you in a bad head space. If they do, you do not need to excuse yourself, you can leave freely with no threat of penalty; I’ll understand and email you after the hour to touch base.” This comment solidified the respect Zuko had for the man.

“now, unfortunately the society we live in is not equal. President Ozai is making sure of that.” Zuko loved when Haru got political and openly scorned the president, whose relationship to Zuko was a close guarded secret on both parts; Zuko hated his father.

Haru continued his lecture, asking the class for opinions, of which Zuko voiced his own in turn. They had now turned onto the subject of reproductive rights, what it meant to be pro-choice, pro-life and how hard it was to remain neutral in the argument on a parliamentary level.

“personally speaking, professor Haru, I don’t think abortion should be legal. It’s wrong to take the life from something not even in the world yet” a voice from the back of the room came. Zuko flinched slightly, anger seething. Jet. Jet was an ex-boyfriend of Zuko’s and they hadn’t left things on good terms. Since their split, Jet was determined to counteract Zuko at every turn in an effort to get a rise out of him.

“Okay Jet, thank you for sharing. Anyone want to counter?” Haru glanced at Zuko, “Zuko? Would you like to share?”

Zuko lifted his head from the page he’d been scribbling notes on, “yes, I would.” He paused, quickly glancing at a page of research,

“Just last year, a woman in Omashu was jailed for getting abortion medication for her 13-year-old daughter who was a victim of assault. Women’s reproductive health is severely under researched and under funded to the point that many women are not diagnosed with reproductive disorders or cannot get sufficient treatments,” he took a breath before continuing, “despite a large number of women being diagnosed with endometriosis in the past ten years, nearly all of the treatments involve invasive surgeries that further increase their already increased chances of infertility. To be pro-choice is to inherently be pro-women-getting-proper-reproductive-healthcare which to me, seems to be classed as a basic human right. Also, old white men should not be making laws specific to women.” He finished with a bang.

“Well done, Zuko. As always, a clear, researched argument. I hope everybody took notes.” Haru went on asking questions. Zuko sat back in his seat, smiling smugly to himself. Beat that, Jet, he thought.

The class ended shortly after and Zuko packed up his things, in no rush to leave like so many others. He felt a presence at the end of his desk and looked up to find Jet eyeing him.

“Can I help you?” Zuko asked curtly.

“Yes, actually, you can. Does daddy know what you think of his policies?” jet’s tone was cynical and calculated and Zuko felt his stomach drop at the mention of his estranged father.

“keep your voice down!” he hissed at the dark-haired male before him, rising from his chair to stand nearly a whole head above him, “I think we both know what my father thinks of my opinions. Try again.”

Zuko was determined to not let Jet worm his way into his head, not when Sokka was such a tangible dream.

Jet scoffed, his lips turning up in a menacing scowl, ready to drive his knife home, “I’m just saying, I thought daddy Ozai should have taught his rugrat some manners when he had the chance.”

Jet stalked off before Zuko could say another word. He wordlessly finished collecting his things and stormed off in a fit of newly fanned rage at his old flame. He had shared far too much with him and now, it came back to bite his ass.

Jet was fully aware of the torment Zuko suffered at the hands of his father, the abuse he endured. It all came to a head when Zuko was 13 and Ozai decided he had had enough of Zuko disagreeing with the way he ran Caldera City. He had burned Zuko after a particularly heated argument which forced Iroh to flee with the wounded teen in the dead of night to Ba Sing Se, where they have resided for the past 7 years. Jet was by no means a fan of Ozai but any way to aggravate Zuko was a win in his book.

Zuko knew this but still could not bring himself to be as unaffected by his father’s name as he desperately desired. In his anger induced march out of his class and the university building, his vision clouded with anger, he hardly noticed as he collided with a wall of muscle and soft cotton. He fell backwards in shock, anger suddenly dissipating as he recognized the wolf tail as it whipped around.

“hey, watch it jacka- oh, shit” Sokka extended his hand out to the fallen boy, “here, let me help. Are you okay?”

Zuko wanted to reach out and grasp the hand offered to him but his pride had been dented by making an idiot of himself in front of Sokka again. He refused the hand,

“I’m fine.” He pulled himself up on his feet and corrected his dark denim jacket and his red backpack before looking at Sokka. The hurt of his refusal was written across Sokka’s features for only a second, but it was enough to make Zuko’s stomach twist in guilt.

“Sorry” he offered, reaching up to scratch the back of his head awkwardly. The motion caused the end of his t-shirt to ride up and reveal only the slightest hint of a muscular tummy. Zuko would never know how that action would infest Sokka’s brain and consume his thoughts.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he continued, trying to explain his haste without the need for too much detail. Sokka’s expression softened,

“hey, don’t worry about it. No blood, no harm, no foul.” Sokka’s face turned contemplative before he opened his mouth again to speak, “take me out to dinner tonight to make up for it?” the statement that Sokka intended to come out as smooth as it had read in Zuko’s earlier text transformed itself into a question mid-sentence, as if Sokka was unsure of the response. Zuko’s breath hitched in his throat and a smile re-arranged his features.

“Of course," Zuko giggled slightly, "how about I pick you up around 7? I know an amazing tentacle soup place!” he said enthusiastically.

“I’ll text you my address, then.”

Zuko could have sworn he saw the faint beginnings of a blush start to emerge on the taller boy’s cheeks. They made an attempt to side step around each other and entered into a short dance of stepping the same direction before Sokka gently placed a hand on either side of Zuko’s shoulders to hold him in place and stepped around him, both boys grinning sheepishly, full of half-chuckles and blushes. “see you later, Zuko.” Sokka called from down the hall, walking backwards to watch Zuko’s reaction.

Zuko let out another half chuckle and grinned shyly after Sokka, offering a small wave in his direction as confirmation. Zuko flushed a violent crimson as he continued his journey out of the university and to his car, his head swimming with outfit options for later that day and the image of Sokka as he walked away. He was so breath-takingly beautiful to Zuko that he didn’t know how he managed to hold a semi-coherent conversation with him for no more than five minutes, let alone how he would manage to do it for over an hour. He made it to his beat-up old Buick, threw his stuff in the passenger seat before sitting in the driver’s seat and let out the biggest gust of air from his lungs he didn’t realise he was holding in. His heart skipped a beat as remembered the way Sokka had said his name and he sighed again before putting on his seat belt and igniting the engine of his beloved and beat up car. he's have to clean it out before 7, he realised, pulling out of the university car park.

Zuko was, in a word, fucked when it came to Sokka; he decided he didn’t care.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for all your lovely words on the story so far! fun fact: when I was writing this I dropped a gummy worm into my tea so this chapter was a bit of a struggle-bus !! since there's so many of you here, my twitter is @/ smol_rachie99 if you guys wanna see what fandoms I'm loving or anything like that.  
> as always i hope you enjoy this chapter! Also a massive shout-out to Rhiona for letting me info-dump on her <3

Zuko turned the key in his ignition and peeled out of the university parking lot, making mental notes of the clean clothes in his wardrobe and how much time he would have to get ready after closing the café for his uncle. His stomach was practically bloated with the butterflies he felt as he fiddled with the radio at a stop light. The song that came through the speaker was an old rock song detailing the singer’s annoyance at clichéd acts of love and love songs; for once, Zuko found his opinion differed with the angst-ridden singer. He wanted to scream the lyrics to as many cheesy love songs as he could out of sheer joy that he finally had something good in his life. He grinned almost madly to himself and hummed along to any cheery song that deemed his speaker worthy, tapping his fingers on the wheel and gear shift respectively.

He parked behind the Jasmine Dragon and darted up the fire escape to the small flat he and Iroh shared. The flat being above his work made it only slightly easier to roll out of bed when he worked weekends. He quickly pulled on a fresh shirt and tugged his apron over his head before darting back down and into the café through the storeroom that connected at the base of the main stairs to the flat. He adjusted his name tag as he greeted his uncle and began working his way through various intricate drink orders.

Iroh retired upstairs a little after 4:30, leaving Zuko to clean the place and close for the night around 5. Just as he was about to close the register and count the days earnings, the bell rang above the door as a customer entered. He had forgotten to flip the sign over. Again. Zuko scowled to himself but forced a pleasant expression onto his face as he looked up to greet the final customer of the day.

“Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, what can I get started for you?” he rattled off with a practiced ease.

“Uh yeah, hi, can I get a uh…” Zuko knew that voice. It was only now that he truly looked at his customer; Sokka. He decided he would use what little he knew of the boys sense of humour to his advantage.

“One uh comin’ up. Cream or coffee based?” Sokka laughed and took his eyes off the extensive drinks menu that hung overhead.

“Zuko! Hey! I didn’t realize you worked here!” they both laughed at each-others’ antics before Sokka completed his order.

“One large matcha iced latte, cold foam, vanilla pump, extra cream comin’ right up!” Zuko loved making complicated drinks and he reveled in the chance to really show off his skills to Sokka. He made sure everything in the drink was done to an impeccable standard and took extra care to make art out of the cream topping on the cold, sweet drink. Zuko was more of a black coffee, herbal tea kind of guy and didn’t really know how Sokka could stomach something that sweet, but he made it anyway and watched on only slightly horrified as Sokka dumped more sugar into it upon receiving the beverage.

“How much do I owe you?” Sokka fished in his coat pockets for his wallet.

“Don’t worry, I’m officially off the clock so it’s on the house.” Zuko only semi-bemoaned the fact that he would have to re-clean the machines he had used.

“Absolutely not, no way. I’m paying for this,” he took a sip, “cup of absolute WONDER!” he took another hearty gulp of the drink and Zuko almost beamed with pride; if he’d had feathers, they’d be ruffled.

“You like it?” he chuckled as he asked the question, his answer was obvious in the way Sokka all but danced around the small café in sheer delight at his new favourite drink.

“Like it? Zuko, it’s amazing” he answered anyway. There it was again. Zuko would never tire of hearing Sokka say his name like that. What seemed a small courtesy to Sokka held so much reverence for Zuko as he once again became encapsulated with the sound of the syllables being caressed by Sokka’s enigmatic tone.

“You should give this its own name and make it a special.” Sokka chuckled and thought for a moment, gaze perusing over the slightly green tint to the drink, “I’ve got it: Cactus Juice!” he laughed openly this time and Zuko appraised the beverage before reaching for a notepad to jot down what went into the Jasmine Dragon’s latest edition.

“Cactus Juice, huh?” he questioned, “I’ll talk to Uncle about it.”

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“As the plague. Uncle has been looking to revamp the menu, add some more to it. This ‘cactus juice’ is gonna be perfect!”

“Oh, wow, um..okay.” Sokka stumbled for a moment but kept his words as light as the mood between the boys, “At least call it The Sokka Special or something.”

“Nope, not a chance. It’s been put in ink, it’s Cactus Juice now.”

The pair dissolved into fits of laughter before Zuko regained most of his composure, smile rearranging his face into what Sokka would only ever describe as a beacon of love and light.

“While you’re here, is there anything else I can help with?” Zuko asked. Sokka could think of many things Zuko could help with. Yeah, help me kiss you and hug you and call you mine he thought to himself, but his mouth was a cage around the words. Instead he settled for what he had come to ask.

“Yeah, I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind a little change of plans for our date?” Zuko’s heart sunk and he tried to not let his face reveal the pang of disappointment he felt.

“Yeah, sure, what is it? Do you need to cancel?” he questioned. Sokka raised an eyebrow at him before continuing.

“No, no, no, nothing like that!” Zuko breathed a sigh of relief, “I was just wondering if you maybe wanna skip a fancy shmancy dinner and go for pizza and ice skating instead?”

“I um.. I’ve never been ice skating before…” Worry began to nest in the pit of Zuko’s stomach. What if he fell? What if made a fool of himself? What if he hurt Sokka?

“Oh shit, really? Well lucky for you, I happen to be a great teacher.” Sokka puffed his chest up as he said it, his grin spreading wider with his endearing arrogance.

“Yeah? Says who?” Zuko bantered back, doing his best to smother his worries.

“Oh, y’know, only coach Hakoda of the South Pole Icebergs!” Zuko looked at the other with a look of mixed admiration and amusement. He did not know a lot about ice hockey, but he knew enough to recognize the name Sokka had dropped and was wise enough to support the most decorated team in the country; He and Iroh had season tickets, more at Iroh's request than Zuko's.

“You know Hakoda?!” he was more impressed than he wanted to reveal. Sokka raised his hand to awkwardly rub at the back of his neck, a sheepish grin rearranging his feature.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “he coached my junior league team when I was like 10! He left to coach the Icebergs shortly after that.”

“that’s…incredibly cool.”

“you think? I’ll tell ya more stories like that when I come pick you up in…” his eyes searched for a clock before landing on the analogue display on one of the microwaves behind Zuko, “an hour and a half.”

Zuko’s eyes widened in shock. He had completely lost track of time talking and bantering with Sokka, like it was as easy as simply breathing. The pair bid each other their farewells and 'see you later's before they both hurried off in opposite directions, Zuko pulling a quick U-turn as he realized he still had not locked the door or counted the register. After his menial tasks in the café were finished, he bounded up the concealed inner staircase to his and Uncle Iroh’s shared apartment. He all but forced the front door off its hinges in his rush to get to the shower and get ready.

It was the quickest shower of Zuko’s young life. He washed his charcoal black mane of hair with a cucumber and sea salt scented shampoo before applying a quick dollop of conditioner to his tresses. After his body had been scrubbed clean of any lingering smell of coffee or cooking oil, he escaped from the comforting stream of hot water, bundled himself up in fluffy towels and careered into his bedroom; set to demolish the contents of his wardrobe in search of his outfit. He eventually settled on a red button down shirt, paired with a pair of distressed black jeans and what Zuko referred to as his “boot boots” as in Zuko’s mind, there was plenty of boots in the world, ankle boots, Chelsea boots, but he needed a Boot boot; they were chunky, black and had small studs decorating the sole. He laid the outfit out on his bed and slipped on some loose shorts before sitting down at his desk and drying his hair. When his hair was suitably fluffy, he slicked it back in a headband and looked at himself in the mirror. Zuko usually wore make up to cover the left side of his face. The scar left behind by his father covered almost half of that side and Zuko was incredibly conscious of it. With his hair pushed back, he applied some scar-care cream to the area and let it sink in. He gazed at his face once more, grazing his fingers over the damaged skin. He sighed to himself as intrusive thoughts of his outward appearance swarmed his mind. How could Sokka still find him attractive once he saw this? Who would ever look at Zuko and not recoil in abject horror or smother him with pity? He cursed his father nine ways to Sunday as a soft knock echoed through the room.

“Zuko? Can I come in?”

“Yes, uncle. Come on in.” Zuko’s tone gave away his mood as Iroh pushed the door open, entered the room and placed a steaming cup of jasmine tea on the desk beside Zuko before making himself comfortable on the bed.

“For the nerves.” He clarified, nodding his head in the direction of the tea. “but something tells me that’s not the only thing on your mind.”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“know exactly what’s going on in my head.”

“Ah, years of practice, my prince.” Iroh always called Zuko his prince. It made Zuko feel loved and respected when every other aspect of his personal relationships seemed otherwise; he revelled for a moment in hearing the pet name once again. “So, what is troubling someone so young on this exciting night.”

“I- I just… what if he sees my scar and decides he hates me? W-w-what if…when we’re alone… like that…we don’t gel as well as I think we do? What if…” He’s another Jet, Zuko thought. The unspoken question rang through the air and Iroh immediately understood what Zuko simply could not say.

“From what I have observed of the boy, you have nothing to fear. He looks at you like you are a piece of art and talks to you as if you were a tiny, fragile shell; any aggression or harsh breath and you’ll fall apart. You don’t meet a boy like that every century, Zuko.” Zuko let slip a small, hopeful smile to his uncle as some of his earlier anxieties began to lift.

“You really think so, uncle?”

“Do you think I would be letting you go on a date with the boy if I didn’t?” the pair laughed before Zuko grew serious again.

“What about my scar, though, uncle? What do I do? Do I cover it, do I not?” Iroh interrupted Zuko before he could fully spiral again,

“If that boy refuses someone as honourable as you for something as minor as a blemish which is, in my opinion, a mark of that honour, then he is not the type of person I thought him. Sokka seems like the type who would love someone regardless of their physical form. Cover it if you wish but I doubt Sokka will mind either way.”

“Thank you, uncle.” Zuko was visibly more relaxed now.

“Now drink your tea, before it gets cold!” Iroh chided the younger as he removed himself from Zuko’s bed and exited the room. As the door shut behind him, Zuko turned around in his seat and glanced at his reflection again.

“No more hiding.” He spoke to his reflection. He reached for his bottle of moisturizer and applied it to his face, but nothing else. He removed the headband from around his head and fluffed his hair into place once more before returning to his bedside and dressing in the outfit he had prepared, feeling more confident about Sokka, and their date, than he ever had before.

Across town, Sokka was in a similar conflict. His freshly washed hair hung limp at the sides of his head as he raked styling gel through it. He examined his fade and mentally rebuked himself for not getting it cut this week. He took a brush and a blow-dryer and began drying his hair. When he was finished, he scraped it back on his head, secured it with an elastic and pulled out some baby hairs to frame his forehead. He journeyed to his wardrobe and, in a similar fashion to Zuko, created a tornado of clothes before finding The Outfit. He chose a simple white t-shirt and dark blue jeans combo but paired it with his favourite pair of worn converse and a fur-lined acid-wash blue denim jacket. His wrists were adorned with beaded bracelets, most of them made by Katara when they were kids, and from his neck swung a thin leather chain with a small boomerang shaped bead dangling in the centre. Sokka’s own head had been running rampant with thoughts and worries over this date.

What if Zuko secretly hated the idea of going skating but didn’t want to let him down? What if Zuko didn’t actually like him as much as he liked Zuko? What if Zuko decided he would stand him up? When he voiced his concerns to Katara, she had assured him that none of that was true and that he was over-reacting and being dramatic again. He had just started to calm down when he looked at the clock on his phone and realized if he didn’t leave right that second, he’d be late to a very important date. On his way out the door, grabbing his keys and wallet as he went, he quickly sprayed some cologne on his neck and a little spritz in his hair, Katara had told him it’d made the smell last longer, and scooted out the door, yelling his goodbyes to his younger sister.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for all your lovely comments! I'm sorry this chapter has taken so long to go up and that it's so short, I recently started back at university for a master's programme and I haven't had as much free time to write as I'd hoped. I hope you guys are all keeping safe and well and that you enjoy this update <3

Sokka’s fingers tapped rhythmically on his steering wheel and he yelled along to the song playing from his car’s speakers.

“CAN I LAY BY YOUR SIDE~~ NEXT YO YOU-OO-OO-OOO NEXT TO YOU-OO-OO-OOO”

Any time he had to slow for a stop sign or red light, he was met with the confused but bemused look of strangers in the lanes flanking his left and right, as well as some concerned glances from pedestrians unfortunate enough to be in earshot of his crooning. Sokka was excited but there was still a flurry of first date butterflies trembling in the pits of his stomach; the yelling along to songs helped quell them.

He rounded the corner onto main street, where the Jasmine Dragon was situated. A few doors away from his destination, he parked in front of a flower shop. he ended up being a little bit early and didn’t want to seem too eager, just in case he scared off Zuko. He looked around him at the area and, despite knowing the city quite well, especially this area, he found himself really looking at the other store fronts for the first time. He noticed the cute little florist last and was suddenly struck with an idea.

He all but fell out of his car in his eagerness, locked it and went inside the small shop. immediately, the abundant and overwhelming aroma of flowers smacked him in the face, and he looked around in awe of the vast amounts of blooms. His eyes fell on buckets of roses, violets and crocuses and he was reminded of something he had learned in class when studying Victorian literature. Roses are symbols of love; violets of faithfulness and crocuses were symbolic of youth.

He approached the counter and asked for a mixed bouquet of the three flowers, pleased with himself at the hopefully romantic gesture.

“Find everything okay?” questioned the sales assistant behind the counter. Sokka looked up at him and smiled to be polite.

“Yeah, I did. Thanks for your help.”

“These are nice, who’s the lucky girl?” Sokka grinned and chuckled a little bit as he replied.

“Not a girl. Just simply the most beautiful man I’ve ever met.” Sokka’s chest subconsciously puffed up with pride at the thought of Zuko on his arm.

“Right on, man. Are they from around here?”

“Yeah, his family own the café a few doors up.” The cashier looked up, eyes wide with shock and Sokka felt his stomach drop when he saw his face.

“Wait…you’re dating Zuko?” Sokka stiffened and his reply was curt,

“Yes, I am. Why? Do you know him?”

“He’s my ex-boyfriend.” Across the counter, Sokka’s smile faltered as he paid for the flowers, “Honestly, don’t waste your time. He’s got way too much family baggage and he doesn’t even put out”

Sokka did not like this guy. He looked at his nametag that read “Jet” and filed the name away for later in his head before taking a sharp inhale through his nose.

“And why exactly would that matter?”, Sokka deliberately laced his words with venom, “Zuko is an amazing person and from your attempt to slander him, it’s pretty fucking obvious why you aren’t in the picture and have never been mentioned. Leave us alone and get a life.” He picked up the neatly wrapped bouquet, turned sharply on his heel and exited the shop, making a mental note to never go in there again.

His little excursion had passed the time enough that he wouldn’t look overly eager if he showed up now. He sat in his car for a minute, focusing on his breathing in an attempt to dispel the anger that was coming off of him in waves.

He glanced at the bouquet he placed carefully in the passenger seat and his anger ebbed at the thought of Zuko’s smile when he gave him the flowers. A small smile graced his lips and he put the car back in drive and cruised the last half a mile to pull up outside the Jasmine Dragon. He flipped the sunshade down and had a quick look in the small mirror that adorned it, checking his hair and checking his teeth. Once he was satisfied with how he looked, he popped a piece of mint gum in his mouth and chewed it, grabbed the bouquet and his keys and exited the car.

As he entered the café, the familiar chime of the bell rang through his ears and he was greeted by a familiar elderly face whose face rearranged into a wholesome grin upon seeing Sokka enter.

“Ah, you must be here for my nephew! He’s very excited about tonight.”

Sokka’s nerves were palpable through his small chuckle, “he’s not the only one. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Sokka.” He cleared the short distance to the counter from the door in a few long strides, hand extended to shake Iroh’s, who in turn warmly clasped their hands.

“Take care of my boy, Sokka. He means more to me than anything in this material world.” Iroh’s tone took on a deeper meaning and Sokka could only assume it had everything to do with his recent altercation with Jet a few doors down.

“I’ll be good to him, sir. I don’t wanna hurt him. I won’t let you down.” Truth oozed from every word Sokka said and Iroh knew instantly that he could trust Sokka at his word.

Moments later, Zuko emerged from the back room and Sokka felt his spirit leave his body. Zuko was gorgeous. The red shirt he wore complimented his pale skin beautifully and his soft black hair carried a soft scent of strawberries from his shampoo. In the time Zuko had been waiting, he had pulled it back into a top knot and had pulled tendrils out of it to frame his angular face. His black skinny jeans clung to his legs as if they had been stitched directly onto his body and accentuated his figure in a way that made Sokka’s breathing hitch.

They exchanged awkward hellos before Sokka remembered what was clasped in his hand,

“here,” he thrust his hand forward with a tad too much haste, “these are for you. I tried to pick flowers that have specific meanings, roses for romance cos we’re going on a date, violets for faithfulness cos I’m a loser and the crocuses for youth cos, y’know, we’re young and stuff” Sokka babbled like a blithering idiot for a minute about the flowers before a now scarlet Zuko had to interrupt him,

“Thank you, Sokka. I love them, they’re beautiful” he passed them to Iroh, “uncle will you take care of these while I’m gone?”

“Of course I will, Zuko, don’t be out too late; you have an early shift”

“Yes uncle, I know.” He turned to Sokka, “will we get going?”

“Yeah, sure, cool cool cool; I’m parked right outside.” The pair bid Iroh goodbye before heading to the door. Sokka beat Zuko there by a few steps and held the door open for the other,

“After you, handsome.” A chessey grin plastered his face when Zuko blushed an even deeper shade of crimson, pride swelled in Sokka’s chest that he’d managed to do that again in such a short amount of time. He quickly scurried to the drivers side of his car and didn’t notice the hopeful glance that Zuko shot back through the glass door of the Jasmine Dragon, or the enthusiastic thumbs-up that Iroh shot back.


End file.
